


Getting Out of Neutral

by SpunSugar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Learning to Drive, M/M, implied death of a loved one, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpunSugar/pseuds/SpunSugar
Summary: Nikolai Plisetsky had passed away two years ago, and Yuri had barely had a chance to mourn. He wasn't good at that kind of thing, anyway. The car he had inherited from his grandfather had sat, unused, in the garage all this time, a tin of his grandfather's homemade candies with it.Now, at Yuri's request, Otabek was teaching him how to drive.





	Getting Out of Neutral

“Revv the engine, Beka.”

Yuri’s eyes were fixed intently on him.

“The engine’s cold. It’s not good for the car t-”

“Just once. Come on!”

Otabek blinked at Yuri for a few long seconds, pondering the demand. Yuri was practically wiggling in the passenger seat. Otabek dropped a heavy foot onto the accelerator. The car growled in protest, its entire frame shaking with the sound. Two years-worth of dust shook loose from the ceiling.

Yuri laughed wildly.

Otabek’s dark eyes softened. He lifted a big hand to Yuri’s hair and mussed it lazily, until it was standing up in all directions.

“You’re such a kid sometimes.”

Yuri froze under the unexpected touch, then batted him away. His ears had flushed a hot, dark pink. He bit back a reflexive curse. He wasn’t sure why, but he always tried to watch his mouth around Otabek.

“Don’t stay stuff like that! It’s patronizing.”                                                                            

“Sorry,” Otabek mumbled sincerely, but he seemed subtly cheered now.

“J-just drive.”

Otabek complied and pulled the car out of the shed, onto the road. The country lanes took them farther and farther from town, lush wheat fields interspersed with hills overgrown by yellow flowers and wild grasses, until the roads were completely deserted.

Nikolai Plisetsky had maintained his car well in life, and it ran smoothly even after such a long period of neglect.

After what felt like an hour of Yuri disdainfully eyeing the horizon, Otabek pulled the car off to the side of the road, stirring up a thick cloud of golden dirt.

“Alright,” he said gravely as he removed the keys from the ignition. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to start slow.”

Yuri lunged for the keys, snatching them out of his friend’s hands.

“I’ll be 18 soon enough. I haven’t got time to take it slow. Every year I have less and less time in the off-season.” He clenched his fist around the keys. The little bell on the end of the keychain, which had belonged to his grandfather, jingled quietly. Yuri’s chest clenched, too, at the sound.

Every year, he felt less and less like a person and more like an amalgam of expectations, waiting to be failed.

“I just… need to do this now.”

Otabek nodded, silent. Yuri could feel his gaze but avoided looking up. Without asking, he knew that Otabek understood. Yuri scrambled ungracefully from the car, slamming the door before the silence could get any longer.

“There aren’t any cameras out here but we’ll still have to be careful.” Otabek said, following him out of the car. “You won’t be able to master this until you understand the basics. Control is the most important thing. So you’ll have to be patient. Alright?”

“I’m ready,” Yuri asserted, but Otabek could see anxiety in the corners of his sharp eyes before Yuri slipped into the driver’s seat, bracing the steering wheel tensely with both arms.

“It suits you.”

Otabek’s praise seemed to reassure the younger boy, because Yuri lowered his shoulders and allowed himself a smug grin.

“Get in, already!” he called, revving the engine for show.

_‘God help the old man’s car to survive this,’_ Otabek thought as he ducked inside.

“Want one?”

Yuri emerged from digging around inside of the glove compartment with a small, red, beat-up tin, which he rattled in Otabek’s face.

“You’re sure? You should save them for yourself.”

It took Yuri a minute to respond as he was concentrating hard on carefully prying off the lid, breathing a successful sigh as he finally broke the seal to reveal a sugar-coated cluster of lemon marmalade candies.

“Hm? Don’t be silly, Beka. Take one.”

Otabek gingerly reached into the tin, taking one of the candies, the last of which would soon be gone. Forever… Otabek glanced up at Yuri’s face, scanning it for any sign of pain, but he was met only with a smile. That kind that made Otabek feel like he had been staring into the sun.

Yuri fumbled to put the lid back on. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but the words were forming a tight choke in his throat.

Otabek saved him.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he told Yuri, popping the candy into his mouth. It was sweet, but it tasted sad somehow.

“It’s just… candy…” Yuri muttered almost inaudibly, but he seemed relieved. Having had enough of their delaying, he gripped the wheel again. He was determined to become a better driver than Otabek by the end of the day. “What now?”

“This car has manual transmission, which can take some getting used to. So, like I said, we should take it slow.”

Yuri huffed but listened attentively as Otabek began instructing. His deep, even voice and the warm smell of lemon on his breath melted away all of Yuri’s worries, and soon nothing else existed to them, outside of that car.


End file.
